Hormones that Permeate (a The Vamps AU Story)
by Rusty Daisy
Summary: AU RPF look into the life of The Vamps
1. Heaven Save Him

"We're The Vamps."

They're sitting, the four of them, on a cramped little sofa, answering the same questions they've answered ten times today already. It's James' go and he's at the far end engaged with the latest journalist. She's pretty and funny and seems to have done her research at least half as well as the others they'd already interviewed with and James is doing well to make them sound proper professionals. At least for the moment.

Beside James, Tristan is sat in Brad's lap, as per usual, his arms looped loosely around Brad's neck. His long legs are stretched out across Connor's lap, and Connor, who is only half paying attention to the questions, is absentmindedly tickling Tris's ankles, making the lanky boy squirm. Brad squawks loudly, exaggerating his discomfort, digs his fingers into Tristan's side. He chides Tris for his bony arse, but wraps his arms around his middle, pulling Tris further into his chest. Tris drops a kiss onto Brad's curls in way of apology and then licks the edge of Brad's eyebrow. He squawks again and the sofa erupts into laughter and a spontaneous puppy pile, James on top, smacking any arse in view. The pretty interviewer can only sit witness to the scene. She is amused but also feels awkwardly intrusive, as there's something strangely intimate to how these boys all interact together.

It's all standard course for their group interviews; half thoughtful answers, half falling out for a laugh. Sadly, it doesn't take much for any of them to become bored during a full day of interviews, and nothing at all for them all to break out into the giggles.

Across the room, their manager, Joe, quietly clears his throat. This isn't anything he's not used to and for the most part, he allows it because it keeps the boys happy and together. The fans also find it endearing. Joe does as well if he's being honest. Luckily, the quiet warning is enough to settle their rambunctious behaviour and they slide right back into the interview as if nothing's happened.

Joe's just thankful the boys are all-around good lads. He's heard about and even occasionally witnessed the nightmares other managers have to handle, and he can honestly say he's lucky to lead this playful rabble; even with all the licking and kissing and inappropriate touching. He counts himself lucky that he's never actually walked in on a band orgy. Not that he thinks it would ever truly happen, but one can never be certain; not when it comes to the overwhelming hormones that permeate every inch of space these boys occupy. Heaven save him.


	2. Haven't Earned Your Bacon

The boys all pile into the hotel room that has been dubbed the staging area for their day of interviews; a place where they can refuel, refresh and regroup during downtime. Each of the boys has their own room for the weekend, but here they can come together and chill.

James and Brad follow Joe to a table to review notes for the late afternoon meetup. What had started out at 1,000 fans has quickly escalated to near 5,000. Joe is suggesting adjustments to the time schedule to accommodate the numbers, which will no doubt rise further before the event.

Connor starfishes face first on to one half of the queen bed, wrapping his arms around the plush pillow and quite quickly, drifts off to sleep. Tristan smiles affectionately, snaps a picture for Instagram and crawls up beside him on the bed. It's only half 2 and already Tristan feels like he could curl up and sleep for a week. Instead, he rests his back against the hanging headboard and idly thumbs through his Twitter feed.

All too soon, their little break is over. Tristan watches in anticipation, ducking under his hands protectively as Brad bounds across the room and vaults up onto the bed, bouncing like the 4-year-old child he is. He jumps on the bed, tossing Connor around like a ragdoll. "Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bakey! Come on Con, man. Time to rise and shine!"

Connor lifts his face out of the pillow he's clinging to and sniffs the room. "Don' smell no bacon."

He's not actually as grumpy as he's making out, just playing it up to garner a bit more care and attention before rolling out of bed. They're all guilty of that. Even in their twenties now, they all still miss their own mother's touch when on the road. They rely on each other for that sense of familial affection and luckily, they have it in spades.

Tristan reaches out, petting Connor's head tenderly. He runs his fingers through his hair and promises to get him all the bacon he can eat…later, after their meetup.

Brad stops bouncing, standing over Tristan. He looks down with a hopeful pout coloring his face. "Can I have bacon as well?"

"Not you." Tristan reaches out, snagging Brad's pant legs and pulls him closer. He wraps his arms around Brad and pulls him down into his lap. "Haven't earned your bacon."

"Hello Babby," Brad drawls out soft and low, purring like the flirt he is. He is quite ridiculous, but the low hum of his voice buzzes in Tristan's ear and makes his heart race.

"Babby?" Tristan can't hide the tremor in his fingers when they tangle in the soft cotton of Brad's shirt. "You haven't called me Babby in ages."

"No?"

Tristan shakes his head slowly, his eyes tracing every curve of Brad's face. They trip and land on his soft pouty lips that suddenly pull up tight into absurd duck lips.

He's playing and being silly, but there's something so tempting in the way Brad runs his tongue over his teeth and says, "I'll call ya Babby all the time if can I have bacon."

Tristan can't help himself when he pulls Brad closer, growls and snaps his teeth along Brad's jawline.

Beside them, Connor groans loudly. "Christ, you two. Will yas snog already? This playin' hard to get is gettin' me hard."

He rolls out of bed, adjusts himself and stomps out of the room in search of a cold shower. Seconds later, James yelps in surprise from within the on-suite.

Tristan and Brad look at each other in mild shock, but Tristan's eyes soften quickly. "Say it again?"

Brad's mouth curls up and he winks, slow and seductive. "Babby, babby, babby."

Tristan surges forward, knocking Brad backwards into the bed. There are no silly, playful games when Tristan dives in, covering Brad's mouth with his own.


End file.
